


Sherlock 1912-1918

by Krystalmatsumiya



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: M/M, Period-Typical Homophobia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-09
Updated: 2017-05-13
Packaged: 2018-10-01 14:10:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 10,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10191698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Krystalmatsumiya/pseuds/Krystalmatsumiya
Summary: The year is 1912, Mycroft Holmes has come home from his first year at Cambridge and finds that his troublesome younger brother has struck up a friendship with a young village constable Gregory Lestrade.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Mycroft's pov for this chapter

Mycroft Holmes turned his brand-new Rolls-Royce Silver Ghost into the drive of Holmes manor. The crunchy gravel barely audible over the sound of his engine. The car had been a gift from his Uncle Rudolph for getting into Cambridge and although he knew his parents would complain about the dangers of the speed it had gotten him from Cambridge to the midlands in half the time it would have taken on the train and he hadn’t had to deal with other people. 

He pulled the car to a stop against the steps of the front steps of the manor and turned off the engine. The leather helmet and goggles were removed and somewhat peevishly he looked at the family home. A year ago, when he had first gone off to college, he had been reluctant to leave but now he was rather disappointed at being back. His time in the great university had taught him that there was a world beyond the limited conversations of his parents and the sulky and almost criminal nature of his younger brother Sherlock.   
A year of stimulating lectures, conversations with people who, although not completely his intellectual equal, were far beyond those of his parents. He sighed a little and climbed out of the car surprised when the door opened. He raised his hand thinking that it would be Jones the butler but immediately dropped it again when he saw the royal blue of a policeman’s uniform. His head almost ached with how quickly he rolled his eyes thinking that his brother had done something again. 

Taking his leather bag from the car he walked to the long stairs as the constable he recognised as being from the village. He couldn’t recall his name but it was the same man who had brought his brother home after all his crimes. 

“Sir” The constable said with a smile bowing his head in his direction and Mycroft was tempted to ask what Sherlock had done this time. It wasn’t the done thing however and he simply jerked his head in the man’s direction before walking passed him and into the grand entrance hall. Jones the butler bowed and wordlessly took his bag and coat. The polished floors and antique wooden panelling was enough to put the grandeur of Cambridge to shame but it was an unappealing sight to him at that moment. 

“Thank-you, Jones, are my parents about?”

“Your father has gone hunting while your mother is visiting. Your brother has just his moment retired to his rooms. They should be back before dinner this evening, sir” The old man said with a smile and a bow of his head and Mycroft caught himself before he sighed and gave a smile to the butler before going up to his own room. The sight of his own large four post bed with drapes was enough to make him feel that the trip up from Cambridge almost worth it but he couldn’t deny that he wasn’t looking forward to dealing with his parents and brother. 

He spent the day in his rooms, bathing away the dirt from the long drive, before he dressed in his evening attire. When he was about to make his way down the long staircase again he paused by Sherlock’s door wondering if he should poke his head in and say hello. He quickly decided against it however knowing that Sherlock wouldn’t be happy to see him. 

Portraits of long dead Holmes’ stared at him from the walls of the staircase and he held his head high. As the heir, there was a lot that would fall onto his shoulders when his father, Lord Fabian, passed away and already he had taken on more of those duties. Left to his own devises his father would have gambled away the family silver long before now though thankfully his mother, Lady Euphemia had always managed to make sure her husband won more than he lost. 

His parents were already in the dining room when he entered and he suffered through the kiss that Euphemia placed onto his cheek and the delight she took in looking him over.   
“Welcome home, how was your trip? I saw that infernal machine Rudi brought for you, I cannot imagine how he thinks that is a safe way to travel” 

“It is fine, mummy, I am careful when I drive” Mycroft replied stiffly before looking over at his father who already seemed more interested in eating than greeting him. “Hello, father” 

“Mycroft” Fabian responded with a brisk jerk of the head “Sit yourself down then so we can eat” 

“Were you aware that the constable here again? Has Sherlock gotten himself into yet more trouble while I was away?” Mycroft asked as he sat at the long dinner table. Nobody waited for his younger brother, as had long since been the custom but today he noticed that a place hadn’t even been set. It wasn’t strange that Sherlock often chose to sit in his bedroom and have food from a tray bit was strange that his parents had seemed to have given up on him completely. As it was his first day back from Cambridge he had assumed that his parents would at least make him eat with them as an attempt to make believe that they were a functioning family. His mother looked confused for a moment her hand pausing on the crystal wine glass before her expression cleared and she gave a smile saying;

“Constable? Ah you mean young Gregory” 

“Gregory?” 

“Yes, Gregory Lestrade, he has become something of a friend to Sherlock. He is here most days now” 

“A friend?” Mycroft almost spit out the word which was almost foreign on his lips. Sherlock having or even wanting to have friends was absurd. His brother who scowled at everyone and treated even his family with contempt. It was madness that he would be friends with anyone much less the man who had arrested him three times. Ever since he was a young child Sherlock had been something of a tearaway refusing to adhere to the strict rules of society, more so for somebody of his class and station in life. At sixteen he was no different than he had been at five. At least in Mycroft’s opinion his parents were delusional to believe that Sherlock would one day join society. 

“It has done wonders for Sherlock, has not it darling?” His mother looked at his father who seemed to have been oblivious to the conversation around them happily eating his meal. Lord Holmes shook his head, gulping down a glass of wine before motioning to the butler who had been hovering at the edge of the room for more. Mycroft was almost sure that he could hear his brain rattling around in the cavity of his skull. 

“Eh what? Yes, quite right, joined me fishing two days ago, rather pleasant day we had of it too” Lord Holmes nodded his cheeks flushed from the port wine and Mycroft rolled his eyes just a little refusing more wine determined that he wouldn’t allow his faculties to be corrupted as his father had done. 

“Sherlock, went fishing? My brother Sherlock? The boy who even refuses to leave his room for meals?” He motioned to Sherlock’s empty place and Lady Holmes let out a tittering sounding laugh before saying;

“Oh, Sherlock’s not here, he is having dinner in the village with Gregory and his family this evening, it is a standing arrangement between them, Sherlock has taken it upon himself to better Gregory” 

“I see. Might I ask how this relationship came about?”


	2. Chapter 2

Two Months Earlier

Gregory Lestrade, known as Greg to his family and friends, dressed carefully in his constable’s uniform. The wool was heavy against his body, stretchy too when it accidentally got against his bare skin and when it rained the fabric gave off the most horrible odour imaginable which couldn’t be removed no matter how much his mam tried. He was proud of it though so much so that a good portion of his night was spent polishing the brass buttons down the front to the point that they shone. He had always had a dream of being a copper, ever since he were a boy running around in the fields, his da worked down the pit his elder brothers too but that wasn’t the life that he’d wanted for himself. 

He’d done well at his schooling, not a brainbox like some but enough that he knew his letters and could read well enough. He were never going to be like the boys in the big house, like Mycroft Holmes who had gone off to a fancy college or even like the younger brother Sherlock. Most of the villagers knew Sherlock more than they did any of the others at the big house. Sherlock was often down at the river bank collecting what he called specimens in little jars. Greg had practically watched him grow up to a right little tearaway. His first arrest had been Sherlock ‘bloomin’ Holmes. He’d caught him trying to sneak into the basement of the Ram’s head. The only tavern in the village. He had said that he wasn’t trying to steal anything and Greg believed him, there weren’t no drinks in there that they wouldn’t have up in the hall only better but he refused to say why he were breaking in and that had meant a spell in the cell. 

It weren’t for long though, the Holmes’ weren’t the type of people you kept their son locked up. They had come down from the house, or rather their butler Jones had done, and took him home. Greg wondered if they had even told him off for his actions. He doubted it since the boy had looked fine the next day when he caught him chasing a swan. It weren’t really a crime that he could have been arrested for but it had been somewhat amusing when the swan had turned around and started giving chase back. To give him credit the young Sherlock hadn’t moved but stared at the bird, with its huge flapping wings, until it took off. 

It were a strange little runt, Greg thought running his fingers through his hair for a moment to make sure that it were neat before taking his sturdy hat and tucking it under his arm. He ducked a few times to miss the low beams of the miner’s cottage. The old place was in better condition than some of the houses your saw it even had proper doors separating the rooms and room enough for him, his two brothers, sister, and parents. 

“Yer mashing mam? I could do with a cup” He said coming out of the bedroom he shared with both of his brothers and looking at his mam. Theresa Lestrade was said to have been a beauty when she were young came in with the thrasher wagon and never left. She’d met his father one evening and that had been it, as they said. The hey queen she’d been then. You could still see in her face when she smiled and it soothed out the wrinkles around her eyes and mouth. She had been the one that he had gotten his curly hair from and the reason that he wore it longer than he should. She gave him a smile now her eyes running up and down his uniform before she nodded and motioned for him to sit at the table. 

“I think I manage to mash yer a cup. You look right handsome, Gregory” Theresa smiled happily saying the same thing she always did when she saw him in his uniform and Greg mirrored the look sitting down and rest is helmet on the well-scrubbed table that smelt strongly of carbolic. His mother had always been a house-proud woman, or rather just a proud woman in general. 

The villagers hadn’t been all that kind when she had first settled in the village, a lot of the girls were jealous that his Da had picked the gypsy as they called her and he was sure that they had said thing about her not knowing how to keep house or keep the kids clean and fed. As it was they had to have been some of the cleanest kids in the village. Scrubbed every Sunday in the bath, there clothes washed and pressed every other day. Never were they allowed to sit at the table with dirty hands and they knew how to mind their manners. School was attended regularly and any bad language was stopped with a sharp clip behind the ear or a feel of their da’s belt when he got home. 

The house was scrubbed carefully every day to remove any scrap of coal dust that might get in and Greg doubted that even the big house was cleaner than his mam’s not that he ever expected to get in it. Even if he were taking Sherlock home after one of his arrested he expected that he would after use the side door like a tradesman. Not that he cared much mind, the Holmes’ had always been peculiar, even the Duke Rudolph who lived for the most part in the city, was said to be something of a dandy wearing outlandish clothing that made him appear as though he were dressing for some kind of travelling show. 

“’Ere you go lad” Theresa said pulling him out of his thoughts as she handed him a cup of tea and joined him at the table her finger tracing around a knot. “What are yer going to be doing today Gregory?”

“Don’t know, Mam, expects that it will be the same as yesterday” He answered with a rueful smile wondering what she expected was going to happen around here. It was the reason that when he had enough experience he wanted to go to the town. Nothing ever happened around here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I went with an East Midlands accent (Mostly cause I’ve decided that Sherlock and his family live in Nottinghamshire) and since I speak that dialect I know how to get it to sound right :/ anywho…I hope it isn’t too annoying...Sherlock will finally appear in the next part


	3. Chapter 3

Greg walked to the station house with his hands stuffed into his pockets kicking a stone along as he walked. It was early in the day but already people were out and about. The shifts at the mine started early and that meant that the shops opened even earlier. He nodded to a few of the familiar faces as he passed knowing that he was walking at a rather peculiar angle given that his chest was sticking out. He had almost made it to the village proper when he saw a sight that he weren’t expecting. It were a sight that made his stomach turn over all unpleasantly. The sight were of Sherlock Bloody Holmes darting into the woods with something wrapped in brown paper cradled in his arms. 

Greg tried hard to tell himself that it weren’t no business of his. The Holmes’ owned all the land round this parts even the village, after all it weren’t much different from someone taking a stroll through their backyard. But the downright shifty look that had been on the boy’s face meant that it went against his better nature to let a young tearaway run loose in the woods.

Thankful that his mam made him wear thick boots no matter what the weather he trudged forward and followed the young master of the hall. Sherlock’s movements were quicker and more graceful than he would ever have imagined. It looked as though he knew exactly where he was going and where the worst of the roots and branches where. Greg’s friend worked as an underkeeper for the Homes’ but even he wouldn’t know the woods as well as Sherlock did. 

It felt as though they went for miles into the undergrowth but Greg was positive that was just his mind playing tricks on him. Eventually Sherlock came to stop and Greg paused some distance away watching to see what he was going to do. There din’t seem to be anything about that would interest the young nobleman and Greg had to admit that he was truly baffled as to what they were doing out here in the middle of the woods. Sherlock walked to a bush and moved it aside to reveal a wooden fence. 

It was crudely made, and seemed to be barely holding together with sheer will and rusted nails and he could easily imagine that it had been made by the boy in front of him. What he couldn’t understand was why. From his position, he couldn’t see what was going on and slowly he moved forward cursing a little when his foot landed on a branch which cracked loudly causing Sherlock to turn and look at him his arms gripping at his package a little more tightly. His eyes narrowed and his proud, handsome face became stony as he looked him over. Determined not to be embarrassed about being caught following him Greg straightened his back and cleared his throat loudly as he asked;

“What yer up to now, Master Holmes? Summat suspect I bet” 

“Of course, a dullard like you would find everything I do suspect. You wouldn’t have the mental capacity to understand anything that I might do” Sherlock bit back his voice as icy as Mycroft’s could be. Not that he’d had much call to speak to the eldest Holmes even though he supposed that they were about the same age. He had seen him around the village though making in inspections of the houses and the tenants and it had the same haughty air that Sherlock was giving off. His body had relaxed considerably now and his face had lost the startled deer look that he’d had a few moments ago. “As it is, today, at least as far as I’m aware, I’m not currently breaking any law that you might be able to arrest me for so if you would just leave…” 

A sharp, high pitched sound cut him off and caused Greg’s blood to turn cold in his veins. It sounded downright terrifying and he swallowed ignoring the glares from the young master of the house and looked over the fence. What he saw there took him by surprise in the enclosure there was a young fox. It were barely bigger than a dog pup but with thick red and white hair. His ears both a sleek looking black twitched a little from side to side as did its nose. 

“What’s that there?” Greg spluttered out weakly and the young man let out an irritated sounding nose from the back of his throat. 

“A fox, I would have imagined that even somebody as simple as you would have been able to work that one out” Sherlock huffed hotly climbing over the fence and getting in with the fox “I was just about to feed him so if you would be so kind as to shut up for a moment” 

“What yer playing at, yer fool?”

Sherlock dropped down his paper package and then stared at the fox cub slowly his eyes never leaving the little furry face and Greg swallowed down a lump from the back of his throat. The yellow eyes were fixed on his face and his back was down like a dog about to strike and for a moment Greg felt his breath catch in his throat. He was about to throw himself at the younger boy to protect him from the beast that was about to strike and then he saw something that he would never have believed if he hadn’t seen it with his own two eyes. Sherlock smiled and then dropped to his knees patting his thighs a little and summoning the creature to him. The Fox flicked his tail and bounced around in a happy way for a moment before running forward and licking at Sherlock in much the same way a dog would lick its owner. 

“Good boy, Redbeard” The boy laughed playing around with the fox’s ears before scratching it’s neck “Let me up and I will feed you”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i really hope that this is okay ^_^


	4. Chapter 4

“You have a pet fox?” Greg asked in wonder a little while later when Sherlock had fed and played with the fox for a while. It had been such a difference from the sulking uptight boy that he and the others in the village had come to know. He was sure that if he acted like that more often in front of the others then there was a real chance that he would be the most popular of the Homes’. There had been something childlike about his face as he had played instead of the premature adult that he always seemed to be displaying. He supposed that of all god’s creatures a fox seemed to suit the surely private boy the most. It were weird, but enjoyable and for some reason Greg was somewhat determined that he would happily see Sherlock that way again. Currently however the boy’s face flashed with annoyance the space between his eyebrows scrunching as he shrugged saying;

“Redbeard isn’t a pet, but unfortunately, he is tame and wouldn’t survive in the wild” There was so much regret in his voice that Greg somehow knew that wasn’t the desired outcome. His pink lips pursed for a moment before turning to stare at him asking “How much do you want?” 

“’Ere? What? What yer on about now?”

“Please don’t pretend to be stupider than you already are. How much do you want? So, that you keep quiet about this? I have some money” 

“I don’t want yer money, Master Holmes, I wouldn’t tell anyone anyrode, like yer said already, yer weren’t breaking the law” Greg frowned wondering what kind of people Sherlock was left to associate with if he thought he needed to buy people off. He also couldn’t work out why he would feel uncomfortable with people finding out. “Bit weird I suppose keeping a pet fox…” 

“I told you, Redbeard isn’t a pet. I found him one morning while collecting specimens. He was only young and half starved” Sherlock said hotly the annoyed look growing as he looked him over a few times as though he were trying his best to figure him out. Greg refused to back down from the look. He had been stared at by his father and he had a harsher look than Sherlock did, for all that the boy was master Holmes of the manor. Eventually Sherlock sighed and continued his tale muttering “It was a couple of days after the hunt so I assume that idiots like my father had killed its mother” 

“And so yer took him in and raised him?” Greg let out an impressed whistle having to admit that he were well and truly impressed. He could never have imagined Sherlock doing something like that and yet here it were clear as day. It were clear at least to him that the pair had a soft of bond but Sherlock still managed to look irritated by his praise rolling his eyes as he clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth before starting to stalk through the forest in a different way to where they had come and Greg supposed that he would have to trust the younger man not to get them lost. 

“He followed me. I kept him in my rooms for a while but my father started sneezing. He has allergies to dogs. I hoped that they wouldn’t extend to Redbeard or he might get used to it on controlled exposure but when he started making noises” Sherlock hummed as though he were talking to himself his eyes focused on the leaves and branches that he were stepping on more than the direction that they were going. “Thankfully my parents were out of house and in the town then and it was only Jones that heard him. I have no idea why I am explaining any of this too you” 

“Because you want me to keep me big mouth shut?”

“I suppose that there is that” Greg was almost positive that the young noble gave a smile but it was gone in an instant before he was looking down again “I managed to get him back to the woods but already I had made him tame. Too tame to survive out here alone” 

“So yer built in the enclosure and bring him food every day? Why not just tell yer parents, like? Sure they wouldn’t have a go at yer” Greg offered out knowing that his own parents would probably find the whole thing funny. 

“I’m sure. My mother would over react and never let me near him again and my father would enjoy nothing more than putting a bullet in his head. As for Mycroft, I can already here the insults that he could come up with. Thank-you but no, I would rather not have to suffer through that if it’s all the same to you” Sherlock sat himself down on a fallen tree and then stared at his hands for a moment before rubbing his fingers with them in frustration “If you would tell me the price of your silence already we can…” 

“I already told yer, I don’t want yer bleeding money” 

“Then what do you want? I haven’t got all day, if I’m out for much longer my insufferable tutor will be out looking for me” Sherlock glared again his whole body tensing like a coiled spring easily giving Greg the impression that the last thing he would want in the world was for his tutor to come looking for him. 

“A tutor?”

“Yes, like a teacher only I don’t have to suffer other idiots at school” Sherlock hissed and Greg rolled his eyes thinking that the boy he had seen not so long ago was a lie.

“I know what a tutor is, I meant I want yer to be mine” 

“And why would I do that?”

“So, that I will keep me big gob shut. I wanna move ter London be a copper there but I don’t just wanna be a constable. Get me through to be a sergeant and I promise I won’t tell anyone about yer fox”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know the characters are out of canon but it's a different time and Sherlock hasn't really been allowed to be the man he is in show :/ I hope that this is okay ^_^


	5. Chapter 5

Greg held his breath as he watched Sherlock Holmes read through what he had just written. The young boy’s lips were slightly pursed and his face was growing ever more tense and strained as he read. He’d never done too badly with his schooling though he had never had a teacher who looked as scary as Sherlock Holmes. It had been four days since he had found the He had been surprised the boy had agreed to his conditions but he took it as a sign of how much Sherlock cared about his pet fox. 

He could still remember the way the boy had glared at him his hands clenched tightly at his sides as he chewed on his lower lip. Sherlock had a way of looking at you as if you weren’t even human and he had been doing it at that moment, his eyes had swept over him a few times and then he had nodded bringing his arms up over his chest telling him that he better not be wasting his time. They’d set up a meeting for next day at the same spot he had first seen Sherlock entering the woods and then he had led him back out to the village before heading home. 

Greg had almost expected Sherlock not to be there at the arranged time but he had been with books, paper, and pencils and an expression on his face which meant he meant business. 

“Don’t be dull, Lestrade” Sherlock whined suddenly reaching out and smacking the back of his hand and Greg rolled his eyes watching as a large spot of ink spread out over the page that he had been working on. “You shall never make Sergeant if you cannot spell correctly. Well I suppose that you could here in this pathetic little spit of a village but you said that your dream was to move to the town” 

“’Ere, I’m doing me best, like” Greg huffed trying his best not to sound too irritated by the bratty sounding voice that he was starting to get used to the sharp tongue. He still wasn’t sure how it had happened and what exactly it was that kept him suffering through Sherlock’s more bratty moments. He supposed it was because the boy had seemed so lost and forlorn. Ha, forlorn wasn’t even a word in his vocabulary a few days ago, but he’d soon picked it up since being around with Sherlock. Sherlock rolled his eyes his handsome face full of derision as he let out a mocking;

“If this is your best I would hate to see you at your worst, this is terrible” 

“Yer don’t have to be such a brat” The constable muttered taking the ruler that Sherlock had given him and running a line though the words that Sherlock had pointed out to him as being wrong. Sherlock didn’t appear to be moved by his words and simply rolled his eyes saying;

“I wouldn’t be if you would learn to speak clearly and write well. I thought you said you had been in education” 

“I have, me ma and da made us all go” Greg gave a huff looking around the clearing that Sherlock had made into his make shift school. Redbeard was chewing on a bone in his enclosure. It weren’t really a great area to be studying, there were nowhere for them to sit and a sudden wind had caused the paper to try and escape more than once but it was the best they could come up with. He supposed if they were going to continue the lessons they might have to move somewhere else but so far he weren’t too sure his parents would be too happy having Master Sherlock Holmes from the manor in their little cottage and he couldn’t even bring himself to imagine what Sherlock would think of it. There was no chance that he could go to the manor “It weren’t no fancy school like you went to” 

“You don’t need a fancy school, Lestrade. You have a brain if you would just care to learn how to use it” Sherlock hissed taking a book that had been brought from the Holmes manor. Greg ducked just before it smacked him and Sherlock glared a little and then dropped the book down holding his head in his hands and staring at the pages in front of him. “If you don’t you will never leave this stupid village” ]

“It ain’t all that bad” 

“I thought I was here teaching you so you could leave” Sherlock questioned dryly his manicured eyebrow lifting his face a little as he gave him a tense smile. “Do it again and properly this time, I’m going to check on Redbeard” 

“Righty-ho” Greg nodded turning over his incorrect work and carefully drawing himself a few lines with a ruler while Sherlock rolled his eyes and jumped to his feet brushing down the dry bits of leaves from his expensive clothes. 

Greg watched the boy work to the enclosure and jump over the small fence dropping immediately down beside Redbeard, who left his bone to jump over him. He couldn’t see it from this distance but he imagined that Sherlock had once again transformed from sullen man-child to child and he was positive that he could hear him giggling as Redbeard nipped and licked at him. He watched the scene for a while and then quickly turned his eyes back to his paper not wanting Sherlock to accuse him of wasting his time. 

His pencil scratched over the paper slowly while his chewed on his tongue trying his best to remember everything that he had been taught in school. It weren’t that he had been a bad student at school, the teacher had always been happy enough with the slates that he had taken in. His brothers had felt the cane more times than he had, but it weren’t good enough for Sherlock. He weren’t sure how much time had passed but a shadow fell over him and he looked up finding Sherlock staring down at him. 

“You’ve used Me instead of My. It’s okay for you to have a dialect when you’re talking but nobody wants to see it on paper” Sherlock corrected him lightly and slowly Greg nodded scratching out the word before correcting it wondering if he should have just taken the money.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that this is okay ^_^


	6. Chapter 6

“Take the book with you, I want you to read the first chapter on your own. I won’t be able to see you tomorrow mother is insisting I visit Uncle Rudi, but I shall be here the next day I expect you to have read that first chapter and I will test you on it” Sherlock told him with a scowl as he packed away the pencils and paper into the bag he had brought with him. Greg stared at the leather tome in his hands knowing that it had to be expensive. His eyebrows twitched slowly in his face. Since they had started their meetings Sherlock had refused to leave him the books that he brought saying that he didn’t deserve them. That he was trusting him this time meant that he must have improved a little in the last couple of weeks. 

“Won’t yer parents miss it?”

“I shouldn’t think so, we have over one hundred books in our library alone” Sherlock sighed looking at him as though he had said something incredibly stupid. “My father isn’t a man that spend much time reading them and although my mother is brighter she couldn’t possibly notice one missing. Besides, that book is from Mycroft’s personal collection”   
“Won’t yer brother miss it then” Greg very nearly dropping the book down into the leaves honestly not wanting to think about what Mycroft Holmes would do to him for touching his belongings.

“As he’s in Cambridge I shouldn’t think so.” There was a harsh ring of bitterness in Sherlock’s voice and Greg wondered for a moment if Sherlock missed his brother. They had never seemed all that close, not like him and his two brothers who had always been inseparable as children and still close no though he hadn’t decided to go down the mine the way that they had.

There was a rather large age different between the Holmes boys however so it wasn’t unlikely that Mycroft had seen Sherlock as an annoyance over a companion but he couldn’t imagine how lonely it must have been for the two boys to have grown up in the ancient manor without speaking to each other. It would explain Sherlock’s lack of patience and warmth now though. He would have asked Sherlock about it but there was a rather angry expression on his face and he didn’t want to upset him and have him say that he wouldn’t teach him anymore. “Just don’t do anything untoward with it and I shall replace it before he returns home”

“Alright” He nodded holding the reverently before going over to Redbeard’s enclosure and kicking it with his toe for a moment noting the way that it wobbled dangerously. “Can I fix this? Make it sturdier like? It looks like a good wind would blow it down. Wouldn’t want Redbeard getting hurt, would we?”

“Whatever” Sherlock answered in the same sullen tone he normally had but there was a touch of colour highlighting his cheeks as his lips curved into the hint of a smile. It lasted only for a fraction of a second before he turned his attention to Redbeard. The fox was playing around with a pigskin ball and acting so much like a regular dog that even Greg could see why it would never be able to survive in the wild. 

“What yer going to do when there’s another hunt? Won’t the dogs catch scent of him?” He asked leaving Sherlock to look mildly troubled for a moment before saying;

“There are some outbuildings that I can hide him in” Greg wanted to say that it would just be easier if he told his parents about the fox. He weren’t all that sure how long foxes lived but he did know that it were going to get increasingly more difficult to look after him. He didn’t know the lord and lady but Sherlock was their son, he was sure that they would support him. “I’m that I can figure it out before then. I should be going, I will see you on Thursday, at the same time?” 

“Yeah, okay, Master Holmes” Greg nodded watching as Sherlock picked up his bag and walked off in the direction of the manor. It weren’t long before the slim form vanished behind the trees and Greg sighed shaking his head a little before looking at Redbeard who was watching him with his bright yellow eyes. They were so watchful and judgemental that he could almost see Sherlock in the stare and he blinked for a moment before giving it a smile “See yer tomorrow, Redbeard, I’ll improve the place for yer while reading this bloody book” Greg sighed again shaking his head from side to side in disbelief “Property of Mycroft bloody Holmes, bloody hell, I don’t know what me mam and dad will say nor me bloody brothers if they know. Not be able to keep this a secret for long” 

He left the fox and made his way back through the woods glad that he had gotten used to the path and he were able to find his way out. He headed to the village first and prepared for his shift as copper. The sergeant were already inside and to his amazement so were Lady Euphemia Holmes. 

“Here is mi’lady, Gregory Lestrade, if there is some sort of issue” The sergeant said stiffly his eyes running over him while Euphemia’s eyes went to the book clasped in his hand and a slow steady smile formed on her lips. 

“Gregory, I must apologise for disturbing you at work but I visited you at home and your mother told me that you were already at work” She told him smoothly gracefully getting to her feet the gowns of her dress causing a swishing sound around her legs her parasol clicking on the cobbled floor. Her eyes swept over him a few times and Greg found himself holding the book like a shield over his chest “Lady Euphemia Esmeralda Holmes. I believe that you know my son, Sherlock? I’m here to invite you to a late luncheon”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that this is okay


	7. Chapter 7

Greg swallowed hard looking up at the main doors of the grand hall. The white walls were almost gleaming in the afternoon sunlight. It was the most beautiful home that he ever seen but he’d heard that Rudolph Holmes' home was far grander. He had cleaned the brass buttons of his uniform with all his might and he had made sure that there wasn’t a speck of dust on the royal blue. His boots were so shiny that he could see his reflection in the and they squeaked when he walked. He weren’t sure if he were meant to go through the servants entrance or not. Euphemia hadn’t given him any indication other than issuing her orders like he were one of her bleeding servants. He’s been too afraid to say anything other than ‘Yes ma’am’ before she had swept away leaving him to make his own way to the hall. 

He walked up the steps again with as much purpose as muster before scurrying back down again. He repeated the process a couple of times before the door opened and Jones the butler peered out at him. Nobody knew much about the butler other than that he had come from London with Euphemia when she had married the lord thirty-years-ago. He was efficient but appeared to be as cold as the rest of the family. 

“Gregory Lestrade? Mi’lady is expecting you” Jones said smoothly and Greg decided that the question had been answered for him. He cleared his throat for a moment and then walked forward again very nearly slipping on the marble steps. Jones didn’t make a sound but he was sure there was something close to a smirk on his lips. Greg flushed just a touch but ignored it pulling off his helmet and tucking it under his arm. He swallowed down a nervous lump from the back of his throat while trying his best not gawp too much at the main entrance which was bigger than his family’s entire cottage. The main staircase was directly in front of him separating at the top before curving upwards to the second floor. He was sure that if he spoke his voice would echo around the place and he found himself almost stopping breathing to make sure that he wasn’t too loud. 

Six doors were laid out in front of him and Jones opened the first one of his left ushering him in to a spacious parlour with comfortable looking sofas and an open fire which had already been lit for the evening. The soft pink and gold colour scheme gave him the impression that this was Lady Euphemia’s personal domain and as she was the only one in the room he guessed that he was right.

“Ah Gregory, welcome” She smiled lifting her hand and motioning for him to come over and Greg did so having the strangest compulsion to bow come over him. “Please take a seat Gregory” Greg dropped down into the sofa opposite her biting on his lower lip trying his best not to sink into the overly soft furnishings. Euphemia smiled prettily again before turning to the butler who was still hovering at the very edge of the room. “Jones, please ask Sherlock if he could come down for a few moments. If he argues tell him that I insist, and send Betsy in with some tea” 

“Very good, madam” Jones bowed his bulky frame and then turned smartly on his heel leaving the room so silently it was like his weight made no impact on the floor. The door closed with a click and Lady Holmes smiled a little more widely before tapping her knee with her fingers her piercing blue eyes staring right into his. It was a look that he had grown almost used to with Sherlock but seeing it from the pretty face of the Lady Holmes was another thing all together. 

“Knowing my son as well as I do I should imagine that we have around fifteen minutes before he comes slinking in her. It wouldn’t do for us to spend that time in silence” 

“Uhmmm” Greg froze wishing that the ground would open and swallow him as he let out a disgustingly stupid sound. Euphemia with years of breeding behind her didn’t appear to notice and continued to smile politely her head tilting to one side. 

“Tell me about yourself Gregory, I have already met your mother, your father and brothers work in the mine?”

“Yeah…I mean yes, my lady” 

“Euphemia, please, my lady is too formal for the sitting room. You chose a different career path?”

“Um…Yeah, I mean, yes, My…Euphemia. I always wanted to be a copper like…A policeman” He corrected himself breathing deeply through his nose trying his best to control the thunderous beating of his heart. Never in his life had imagined that he would be sitting in Lady Holmes’ parlour much less with her looking at him as though she could see straight into his heart and soul. 

“I see, a noble career path, the world is full of criminals and not the men to stop them all. How did your friendship with Sherlock start?” 

“I…We…Um…I…I…We’re not friends, like, I mean…” 

“You’ve been spending a lot of time with him, every day in the woods. If you are not friends with my son I would be very interested as to why you are spending so much time with him” Her smile was still on her face but it was frozen now and her eyes narrowed just a fraction in the same way Sherlock’s would be he called him an idiot. Greg was saved from answering by the door being thrown unceremoniously open with Sherlock asking in a rather loud voice;

“What do you want mother? I was in the middle of something” Sherlock paused for a moment when he saw him sitting there and then continued “Oh, you, what are you doing here, Lestrade?” 

“Sherlock is that anyway to great your friend?”

“I don’t have friends, mother, please don’t be stupid that’s what father’s for” Sherlock answered rudely his face scrunching into a disgusted scowl at the word. Instead of correcting him Euphemia laughed loudly “I simply refused to be continuously arrested by a man who cannot spell my name”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mummy Holmes knows her sons well ne, I wanted her to be more than she was in the show...I hope that this is okay ^_^


	8. Chapter 8

“So, your relationship is one of teacher and student?” Euphemia asked with a pleasant smile though Greg noted that, like many times with Sherlock, it didn’t take away any of the coldness of the pale blue eyes. There was a know on the door before it was opened slowly “Ah tea has arrived. Thank-you, Millie” The maid, who Greg recognised as Millie Green a local girl his eldest brother was sort of courting. She looked surprised to see him but she quickly got her expression in order and placed the tray down on the table in front of them. “You will join us, Sherlock” Euphemia said sharply and Greg could tell that it wasn’t a suggestion but he was genuinely surprised that instead of arguing Sherlock slunk over to the sofa he was sitting in and dropped down heavily. The female Holmes gave a very familiar smirk before saying “Good boy” 

“Mother” Sherlock growled as Millie scuttled her way back out her brown eyes searching his telling him that she would be telling his brother about this strange turn of events. He was already imagining the conversations that he would be having when he finally got home and he had no idea what he was going to do. His fingers tapped against his helmet resting on his lap and was unsurprised when Sherlock’s hand darted out to smack him lightly. He flicked his eyes over to him but Sherlock was staring at his mother his eyes unblinking as his brow furrowed looking as though he were trying to work out a puzzle. 

“Sherlock, do stop glaring like that, you wouldn’t want to scare Gregory, would you?”

“I’m used to worse, Ma’am…I mean…Urh…Euphemia” He corrected himself as quickly as he could when he saw Lady Holmes’ eyes narrow and her lips twitch in very much the same way as Sherlock’s did before he was about to hit him and call him an idiot. Her smile warmed a little again and she started to pour the tea into the delicate china cups. They were the kind of cups that he had always wanted to buy his Mam. A soft pink with a pretty white pattern of flowers at the front. 

“Lemon?” She enquired softly and Greg nodded slowly his mouth feeling achingly dry as he realised that he had no idea of the protocols of drinking with nobility. His hands shook near violently as he took the cup and saucer which felt so thin it were like the shell of a duck egg and he thought it were going to be as delicate as one. Not knowing what to do he waited with cup in hand until Sherlock had his own cup between his long fingers. “So, Gregory, what kind of things has my son been teaching you?”

“He’s been teaching me, me-y letters” 

“I suppose that I should have started with elocution” Sherlock grumbled and Greg tried hard to pretend that he knew what the word Sherlock had said and sipped at the tea slowly. Euphemia pretended that her son hadn’t spoken at all and continued in a sing-song-y type voice;

“I see, and is my son a good teacher?”

“I should hardly think so, I have the knowledge to be the finest teacher in the whole of the United Kingdom but I lack the desire and the patience to be such” Sherlock grumbled from his left staring down at his tea as though it were his mortal enemy. 

“He’s alright, knows what he’s talking about I suppose” 

“You suppose? Lestrade, you had difficulty in writing your own name until a few-days-ago” Greg found his cheeks growing a very warm pink as he nervously flicked his eyes at Euphemia who was studying her own drink with a sort of bored interest that somebody used when they were trying their best to be polite. 

“I weren’t that bad! At least I bloody remember your first name” He growled to irritated to care that he had sworn. He knew that his parents would have clipped his ears for it but Euphemia seemed almost amused though it was almost completely hidden by the bored look on her face. The upper-class really were in a world completely of their own it seemed or maybe she just liked it that he weren’t scared of talking back to Sherlock. 

“Are you still offended by my calling you, Graham?” Sherlock asked rolling his pretty eyes and Greg had to admit that they were indeed pretty eyes this close to. They were like the stones that he and his brothers had collected from their only trip to the coast a few years ago. It was as though they couldn’t make up their mind what colour they wanted to be.

“Tell me what my name is now?

“…” Sherlock blinked furiously for a moment his coppery lashes beating against his cheeks as his expression became blank. There was a feeling of disappointment inside his chest as he realised that Sherlock still didn’t know his first name. 

“Yup, that’s what I thought” He muttered crushing the disappointment out of his chest and finishing the tea while Euphemia grinned a little more. Her head cocked lightly to one side before she clapped her hands in a delighted kind of way. 

“Gregory, I must ask you to forgive, Sherlock. He and his brother are the same, they delete things that they consider to be unimportant, names are unfortunately one of those things that are unimportant” She said with a roll of her shoulders “It was something that their uncle taught them, Sherlock tends to forget names. Even my own” 

“It is a memory technique. It helps to store interesting information and how is your name important to me, mother mine?” 

“See, you shouldn’t take it so personally Gregory, that Sherlock cannot remember your name. He is taking the time to teach you after all”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmmm...I hope that this is okay ^_^


	9. Chapter 9

“Sherlock, there is some time before dinner, you should show Gregory around” Euphemia suggested after the tea was finished and Greg couldn’t help but want to get away from the woman who had been peering at him relentlessly for the last twenty minutes. She had been making small talk asking him seemingly innocent questions but he could tell that she had been trying to lull him into a false sense of security and it probably would have succeeded if Sherlock hadn’t cleared his throat or scoffed loudly at some of the questions that had been asked. “Perhaps the library and your study. Do try and stay out of Mycroft’s rooms you know how much he hates you going through his things” Greg tensed just a little thinking about the book that Sherlock had lent him. He had left it at the station tucked away in a cupboard that he used for his snap and he knew that when he left here when would have to fetch it out.

“Mycroft doesn’t hate me touching his things. He just hates it when I mess up his system” Sherlock shrugged in way that suggested that he didn’t care about Mycroft’s opinion on the matter and Euphemia rolled her own eyes her lips twitching in the suggestion of a smile as she hummed softly;

“I see, either way I suggest that you stay out his rooms on your little tour. You will be joining us for dinner won’t you Sherlock?”

“I imagine that I must. If left alone you would have enough blackmail materiel on Lestrade that you will be able to keep him under your thumb forever” Sherlock grunted getting up and taking the last of the biscuits from the tray. He stuffed one in his mouth and then crammed the rest into his pocket with all the manners and grace of a child “Come on Lestrade” 

“Right, um, thank yer…You fer the tea” 

“Thank-you for joining me. It has been most enlightening. But we shall be seeing each other again soon” The lady Holmes said with a slightly more genuine smile and Greg was left with the god-awful feeling that perhaps Sherlock had been too late and that he had let something slip that he hadn’t been aware of. He stood awkwardly staring at Euphemia with his mouth gapping open for several long minutes until he heard Sherlock let out an exaggerated sigh and felt him grab his hand pulling him out of the sitting room and out into the large hallway. 

“Mummy enjoys intimidating people and that means pretending that she knows more than she does. She’s actually rather good at it, even though she is only fractionally more intelligent than father, but you didn’t let anything too drastic slip, Lestrade so you should be fine” Sherlock huffed slowly through a mouthful of biscuit. “The ground floor is mostly mummy’s domain. Father has his games room through there…” Sherlock waved a half distracted hand towards another of the doors “And there is what is meant to be his study over there though Mummy uses it mostly to make sure that the family business doesn’t fail again” Another hand wave had Sherlock pointing to another door further down the hallway but they were soon walking to the grand staircase and Greg followed him quickly surprised that Sherlock was bothering to give him a real tour “The second floor is mine, and Mycroft’s I suppose when he’s here which isn’t much anymore” Again Greg was left feeling as though Sherlock were sad that his brother were no longer living with them. “This way…” 

“You and Mycroft are close?” Greg asked slowly as he walked up the many steps and Sherlock stiffened just a fraction before turning to look him over for a moment or two his head shaking from side to side as he gave his answer;

“We can’t stand each other actually. He is my nemesis and he is nothing but irritating. However, he is the only person that I am able to speak to without feeling as though I am talking to a lower life form” 

Greg balked at the insulting tone even though in some way he supposed that he could understand Sherlock’s attitude. He might not understand completely everything about the Holmes’ but he did know that Sherlock was intelligent, far beyond even the teacher at the school had nothing on Sherlock. 

“I see, you’re both weirdos then?” He asked chuckling just a little when he saw Sherlock turn to scowl at him. His handsome face scrunching up in all the most delightful ways possible. Before he had spent time with Sherlock Greg would have thought it strange for a bloke to constantly find another bloke handsome but it was impossible not to think about that with Sherlock. The man was very attractive in the highbrow rich person way which included high cheek bones and a near permanent sneer twisting his lips. 

“I shall ignore your attempt at an insult. We have much in common though with have enough differences that we rarely get on when we are in the same room together” Sherlock shrugged looking back at the stairs they were still climbing and Greg found himself smiling at the colour that had burnt Sherlock’s ears a pinkish red. They didn’t speak any further until Sherlock pushed open a pair of doors to reveal a library. “This is mine and Mycroft’s joint library and study” 

“Woah…” Greg whistled loudly stumbling into the room with his eyes wide and his mouth open. All four walls were covered with rows and rows of books and there were tables in the centre with more books and paper scattered here and there. The floor was as polished as a ballroom though there were decorative rugs scattered here and there. The ceiling was decorated with a scene from the bible of Eve eating the apple from the tree of knowledge. “All these books, nobody would be able to read them all surely?”

“I’ve read them all, Mycroft too, some more than once. For somebody of very little intelligence you put a lot of stock into books, Lestrade, from now on I suppose you should come here for your lessons”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that this is okay


	10. Chapter 10

Dinner with the Holmes’ was much like one would expect from a wealthy family. Lord and Lady Holmes sat on either end of a table that would comfortably be able to support a party of twenty. He and Sherlock were sitting half between the pair. The sullen teen was staring at his plate which was only half full and Greg was attempting to swallow down what was probably the most luxurious luncheon that he had ever eaten. The meat was all the top end cuts and simply melted in his mouth while the vegetables had a bit to them that captured all their flavours and each time they were popped into his mouth he wanted to moan with excitement. Wine had been poured but he was taking only careful bites not wanting to leave a bad impression though Lord Holmes appeared to be enjoying it enough for the four of them. 

He could see that Sherlock wasn’t nearly as impressed with his own meal pushing peas and carrots around with his fork while his mouth moved slowly. It was done in the same way he often caught him doing when he was sitting by himself in the clearing with Redbeard. It was as though he was he was working out a problem in his mind and he couldn’t help the way his mouth moved. 

“Dear, how was your day?” Euphemia asked her voice still soft but managing to carry over the table to where her husband was having Jones pour him yet another glass of wine. He did give a handsome smile though as he looked over at his wife and Greg saw genuine affection in the icy blue orbs while he gave his answer;

“Fine, not much sport about, thinking of going fishing tomorrow if the weather holds up. You my dear? I trust your day was without trouble?”

“As always, my dear, I find much to amuse myself with” Euphemia answered dimples forming in her cheeks as she gave an outright smirk that matched Sherlock’s when he was about to do something clever “Are you going out alone tomorrow?”

“You wish to join me?” The lord looked almost hopeful and Greg turned his attention back to his meal trying and failing to picture the beautiful and elegant Lady Holmes standing at the edge of a bank fishing though he already knew that the family didn’t abide to the social norms. 

“Not I my dear, unfortunately Sherlock and I have a prior arrangement, we shall be going to see, Uncle Rudi but I do believe that Gregory might enjoy the sport” She said with an almost laugh to her voice and Greg found his eyes bulging out of his head as his heart skipped a beat at having the attention turned on to him. Fabian’s eyes and face were filled with excitement as he smiled around the wine glass and Greg found it hard to believe he had thought the man cold when he had first been introduced. 

“What’s that? Enjoy fishing do you boy?” 

“My lord, my brother and I caught tiddlers in the stream in the Red wood when I was younger, sir” Greg answered with some embarrassment as Sherlock looked up at him his green/blue eyes narrowed “But I ain’t had…I mean…I’ve never done real fishing, sir, though I would be very happy to learn” 

“Ah, right, always happy to have somebody keen. The boys tried but much too much like their mother prefer their minds” Fabian told him with an eagerness that was somewhat unsettling though Greg was glad to see that the man didn’t seem disappointed in his son’s for not having similar interests as himself. “Not like you then boy?” 

“I ain’t got much in the way of brains, Sherlock will tell you that sir” Greg looked over at Sherlock as the lord let out a loud laugh his hand slamming down on the table with so much force it caused the crockery to rattle. 

“I’m sure he does and often. Hasn’t much time for us dullards have you, son?” He asked still with laughter in his voice and Sherlock gave a shrug before allowing his eyes to move between them before he opened his mouth to speak. 

“No father. Though I have more time for Gregory than I do others” Sherlock answered and Greg felt his chest tighten as he realised that Sherlock had spoken his name. It was said rather deliberately and he was sure that he heard Euphemia laugh but Greg was happy that he had remembered it even if he was simply trying to prove a point to his mother. “He’s not a complete dullard like you yet father” 

“Sharp tongue my boy has. Always speaks his mind” Fabian beamed proudly at Sherlock who simply rolled his eyes and returned to looking at his plate pushing around the peas again without “Don’t let it trouble you. Like water of a ducks back for me now” 

“And there in lays the problem” Euphemia sighed so softly that Greg fancied that he was the only one that heard it. “So, it is agreed then, Gregory can come with you fishing, dear, perhaps you have found a companion after all” 

“Perhaps, and perhaps one day we might persuade Sherlock to join us” Fabian looked at Sherlock teasingly and Greg saw the teen scowl even more before he threw his fork down onto his plate and announced that he was done. 

“There is dessert, if you should like some” 

“I am not Mycroft mother, you can’t force me to eat sweet things” 

“But you’ve barely eaten anything” 

“I have eaten enough so that my body might continue to function and that my brain will continue to work. You know that I do not eat for pleasure mother. Nor am I likely start now” Sherlock scowled at the plate as though the very idea of eating another bite angered him “If it appeases you I will sit and wait with you while you continue to gorge yourselves but only so that you don’t convince Gregory to do something foolish or to say something idiotic. Be happy with that.” 

“Very well, Gregory you will have dessert?”

“Yes, my la-Euphemia, that would be lovely”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so deeply sorry for not updating in so long, so many RL issues (involving broken laptops/ill-health/and stress) came up that it was impossible but today is my birthday so I was determined to post! I hope that this is okay ^_^


	11. Chapter 11

Sorry not a chapter but an apology, i will delete this when i post again >·<  
I havenf abandoned this or any of my stories. ill health and a bout of depression has prevented me from writting but I'm recovering now and will be posting again soon 

Krys

**Author's Note:**

> ....Hmmm, I re-watched Maurice and well my brain sprang into action, I probably won't be updating as quickly as my other stories that being said I have the next chapter almost finished so if you like I can try and update it sooner :)


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